Day 51: Breakfast

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

Yuffie Kisaragi, indomitable bouncing ball of sunshine and unfathomable ebullience, was tired. It'd been a long night full of gibberish and getting nowhere fast.

"Can't I—"

Plucky, who had been busily loading a plate full of French toast and bacon, tittered. "I'm afraid not, Hanna, darling. A chat over a nice, hearty breakfast would do you a world of good, don't you think?"

"Aaaaactually—"

"Come on, let's find you a seat. Plenty to choose from this morning!"

For a long moment, Yuffie seriously considered doing something—anything—to act out. Punch her nurse, rub jam in an orderly's face, climb a wall and hang off the ceiling, jump on a table and parody Loveless… A ruckus like that would definitely jolt her back into gear, right? Sedation aside. And it'd turn Plucky's good day right on its head, which was always a bonus worth shooting for.

But, by the time she'd reached a decision—and it was an epic decision, a really awesome one; everybody'd appreciate the genius, she was sure—she was already alone. Her breakfast tray had been set down neatly by the nurse, who had left with an infuriatingly winsome smile.

"Wow," Yuffie muttered. Shaking her head, she picked a chair at random and threw herself into it. She kicked back, one arm slung across her eyes, to wait. For what, she wasn't totally sure. Some moron to decide that she looked like good company? That was how it usually went.

Comments

[full-score.livejournal.com]

The way she easily agreed to help him like that made an impression on Claude, though he still wasn't sure whether she truly understood what her limitations were in this place. He was worried for her, but if she was going to insist on helping him, then Claude had already decided that it was probably for the best that he accept the offer. Natalia had a point that they shouldn't be self-defeating about everything, but he didn't want to go in with unrealistic expectations, either. For now the best course of action was probably to try to maintain a delicate balance about the whole thing -- not to assume that it would absolutely work, but not to tell himself it wouldn't work, either.

"Right," Claude agreed. "That's the attitude needed for a lot of things in this place, really."

When the princess asked for his room number, Claude briefly paused. As much as he hated having to trouble her so much, he realized it wasn't very realistic for him to go to her unless he could secure help from someone else. It was frustrating, finding himself so limited, but maybe after tonight his sight wouldn't hinder him anymore.

"If you think that would be best," he conceded after a moment as he put down his empty water glass. "I'm in room M44, so it's pretty easy to remember."

[nobleobliged.livejournal.com]

Natalia could not make any claim at having a talent for reading people. The princess, by virtue of her position and upbringing, had a tendency (one with which she fought, when sufficiently aware of it) toward being self-centered, and consequently less capable of noticing the less than obvious with others.

Yet, she tried, and did so now, possibly more attentive due to not having his eyes to also go by. Natalia had an impression of a kind of humility, an unwillingness to be a bother at any point -- that he would hesitate to accept her help, that he conceded to take of his water at her request.

Noting as much, it seemed significant that he agreed to her suggestion that they meet at his room. "Absolutely," she insisted, and attempted also to put a different, less catering spin on it, "it will help me to further familiarize myself with the Institute."

Though breakfast was likely near over, Natalia saw his now empty glass and asked, "Would you like more water?"

... Which, perhaps, would be seen as just the sort of catering she'd meant to avoid. But, if all he would ingest was water, she did want to encourage as much of that as she could.